


Age of Deception

by TurboFerret



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: AU, Beauty and the Beast Elements, M/M, Nobility, beauty and beast AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurboFerret/pseuds/TurboFerret
Summary: A universe where some frametypes are bred for certain purposes is not fogiving once the frame no longer can serve. Blurr is a successful messenger bot who is out on what seems to be another day of his predefined occupation. Assured of his position and success he fails to notice that the stability he had been enjoying is nothing more than a guise.





	1. Corrosive Properties of Acid Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sup you guys! I am still working on my non-fiction stuff hence I am afraid that NLT will be updated at a later point in July.  
> Also You guys I got a Job! So I can buy myself a proper sword and stop fighting with a stick! (Long story which has everything to do with Vikings).  
> However I could not just Not post so I decided to put up this little something which I wrote somewhere inbetween - it is meant to be short and not overly complicated. Right, let's see if that works out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Major thanks to Lilac who is just awesome at constructive criticism

 

Blurr shivered in his light plating - little puffs of heated air leaving his vents; the acid rain mercilessly sapped the heat from the air and his frame. He closed off all of his vent flaps, trying to conserve as much heat as possible. Normally that was not a problem, Blurr was a purebread high-speed messenger bot, a speed demon as some refered to them, cooler environments were welcome when he was at peak of his performance. Idling was not peak performance.

Which was why his frametype were not in a very high demand, finicky, as one of his clients had put it. Blurr had not taken offence, he could have but ultimately there was no point in it; he was still valuable enough for some elite breeders to keep and some instances to employ. Not to mention that he took pride in his pedigree and profession - delivering messages and light packages at ultrasonic speed.

He flexed his numb fingers which had become stiff with cold and tried to ward off the alarming thoughts that crept in. What if the rain continued overnight? How much colder would it get? For this trip his handlers had not accounted for an acid storm to catch up with him.

The irony was that the delivery site was close by, the area was familiar to him but he felt like he had been running in circles, constantly taking the wong turn.

Futilely he tapped his terrain positioning sensors but they remained unresponsive - scrambled by the weather. The heavy droplets of acid landed on the forest floor with a warning hiss, a couple splashed on his armor, making him wince. Out of fear for his wellbeing Blurr hid under an overhang of crystals and looked grimly at the spectacle before him.

His destination was a manor of the renowned and feared scientist who’s true face nobody had seen. Blurr remembered being approached by mecha who wanted to find out the appearance of the mysterious mech. Blurr hadn’t agreed, spying on his clients just was not done in his line of work, not if he wanted to keep his position.

He shuddered once more and paced in the small patch of ground still spared from the rain. Why hadn't his office picked up on this weather event? Usually they were much better at informing their staff. Blurr grumbled to himself slightly and tried jumping on spot, some movement was better than none at all.

After a while Blurr deemed this form of exercise futile and instead curled up on himself. He must have dozed off, too, because next moment he knew it he was startled to attention by a sound of sizzling and quiet snarls. A lone chariot pulled by two large beasts appeared in his sight. Whilst it still hissed and steamed in the rain the creatures were seemingly unaffected by the corrosive downpour. A portly tarp-covered figure stepped carefully off the chariot and approached Blurr.

He twitched, his cold and exhausted systems baking extra time to boot properly. Warily he looked around for escape routes and concluded that he was effectively trapped by the weather and the alcove he’d chosen to hide in.

However his fears dissipated somewhat when he evaluated the size difference between him and the newcomer.

-”Don’t fear, little thing. You are the delivery to the Shockwave manor. I am here to give you a lift. The weather is unpredictable in these parts and master was worried for your wellbeing.”

Blurr wanted to clarify that he Had a delivery but he himself was not the delivery; but let it slide since the mech was nice enough to come out for him in this pit of a weather.

-”My thanks to master Shockwave.”

The mech offered Blurr a tarp, not unlike his own, to protect him from the acid rain.

-”No thanks are necessary, it is only logical.”

Blurr slid the fabric over his frame but his guide did not seem to be content by how he did it and adjusted the edges of the tarp for better coverage.

\- “Your frame is very delicate. You are likely to sustain more damage if you do not properly protect yourself.”

Blurr was at a loss as to what he should reply to this. It was not untrue, but it did not speak well of his owners and even if Blurr agreed that they could have opted for a thicker layer of protective coating for Blurr's frame, he felt a bit defensive. 

-“All messenger frames have a layer of anticorrosive coating. But.. I doubt it would last in this storm.”

-”It wouldn't.” The driver agreed and helped Blurr up to the seat next to his.

With a little click, the driver ushered the heavy insecticon-type drones to move.

They traversed the downpour in silence. Blurr pulled the edge of the tarp hood further over his face to protect his sensitive antenna. The crystal forest around them hissed, as reactions between plant bark and acid took place, punctuated by a stray call of a mechanimal caught in the deadly downpour. Most of the metalloflora in these areas naturally retained a layer of oxidized plating or non-reactant oils to protect itself.

Acid rain also had its upsides. It helped erode the dead matter and release the minerals and metals necessary for the growth.

Blurr looked around bewildered, he had never been caught in an acid storm in a way that did not warrant immediate world of pain. But now, from the safety of his tarp he could appreciate the beauty of a violent acidic downpour.

Before long they were at the manor and Blurr wondered how he had missed that turn.

  
The driver hopped off the chariot first and deftly removed his tarp, simultaneously turning it inside-out to prevent any acid droplets from touching his plating. Blurr was less adept at this but tried none the less. It took him longer but in the end he managed to remove the protective layer in the same fashion the driver had and to hang it on the nearest silicate hanger.

Now he had the time to examine the driver better - a stocky mech with wide and open features.

-”Thank you for bringing me all the way here. I am aware that you did not need to and I do not usually get lost but my geopositioning got scrambled. I hope I did not cause much delay.”

The mech just nodded.

-”Your room is ready.”

-“That is very kind of you but I don't think I will be staying long enough for it to be necessary.”

-”Really? Where is your next delivery destination?”

Messenger bots were normally too expensive to keep idle for too long so usually their itinerary contained several delivery destinations and several stopover points to collect the next deliverable and refuel before they returned back to their station. In a sense it was a circuit.

Blurr checked his latest updates and frowned. There were no more destinations and he could have sworn that there had been more when he had first set out. In fact, his current destination stated that it involved a physical package but Blurr clearly remembered that he had been only given a data packet.

\- “There must have been a mistake in the records.”

Blurr became slightly more agitated. His very existence depended on his performance - frames that failed to deliver were repurposed and that was only a kinder way of saying stripped for scrap metal. So far Blurr’s track record had been impeccable and he intended to keep it that way. Desperately Blurr pinged his delivery service but the signal was scrambled.

\- “You needn’t worry, you can stay here as long as necessary. Master Shockwave would be glad for company.”

Blurr did not doubt that but rumors were that the master of Shockwave manor was a monster - deformed by some experiment or other that had gone wrong. And that he was always in the lookout for test subjects. Not that rumors were always true but in circumstances such as Blurr's one couldn't help but be cautious.

-"Ah. Yes, I guess he does not get many visitors...when it rains like this." Blurr was quick to correct himself. Just assuming that the mech was a hermit was impolite, rumors or not.

 

The tubby mech smiled and ushered Blurr into one of the corridors.

\- “It would be best that you remove any remnants of the rain. You would not want your plating to corrode would you?”

Before Blurr could utter another squeak, he was given a fluffy towel and pushed into a washrack.

It was not uncommon for the delivery recipients to spoil Blurr a little, be it an energon treat to send him on his way or a help with an injury sustained from going too fast. But this seemed like a tad too much investment for a mere delivery bot. Blurr tucked the thought in his processor to ask the mech about that later. Now, however Blurr sighed, feeling the cleanser wash away the itchy irritation caused by the rain.

He thought that he had seen a reflection of a red bulb in the wet tiles of the washracks but when he looked around for the source of the light, he did not see any. Shrugging it off as tricks of his processor he did a short job of drying himself.

Once out of washracks he stopped. His helpful guide was nowhere to be seen and Blurr had no idea where to go and he did not want to just stand outside the washracks either. Hanging the damp towel over his shoulders he tried retracing the steps from washracks back to the entrance hall. Standard housing was easy to orientate in, custom-built mansions - not so much and Blurr did not want to impose even more on the good graces of his host. He counted the doors, looked at the support beams, they all looked identical and after a while Blurr had to admit to himself that he was hopelessly lost.

-”Oh, I would not enter there." Blurr almost jumped out of his plating, it felt like his new acquaintance had materialized from thin air. He had craned his helm from one of the adjacent rooms. -"This is the closed-off wing of the mansion. I’m ashamed to admit it is a little run down since not many mecha reside here on permanent basis.”

-”I did not mean to intrude, that would be rude and I would not want to come across as ungrateful for the hospitality I have been shown.”

Blurr clutched the damp towel in his hands and pulled his mouth into a smile. The idea of spending the night in this mansion made him uneasy but with the storm outside and his communications scrambled he had no better options.

-”I apologise for leaving you alone, I wanted to make sure that your quarters have everything you might need.” Langarm gestured Blurr to follow him.

In vain the little messenger tried memorising the path and earned a good-natured chuckle at his insistence.

-”The hallways can be challenging to tell apart but you’ll get better with practice.”

Blurr giggled and shot back in the same friendly manner. -”Not that I would mind moving in but I’m afraid my schedule would not permit me to linger too long.”

-”I’m certain you will be able to clarify your current position with your superiors once the storm is over. Now I must bid you a good evening.” They stopped next to an unassuming door in an unassuming hallway which was the same as the rest of the hallways in the manor.

Blurr nodded meekly and gasped when he took a peek inside the room. He did not dare to take more of the mech's time by questioning if the guest room had really been the quarters for him but he still felt a bit taken aback.

-”It is a bit embarrassing - you have treated me well and I do not even know your name.”

-”I assure you it is of little consequence but you can call me Longarm of you wish.”

-”Of course it is! Of consequence, I mean. Thank you for being so nice to me Longarm.”

Sill uncomfortable with the sudden luxury Blurr stood in the middle of the room making sure not to dislodge anything. It was not as if he had never seen an opulent room before, he just had never been invited to use one. It was almost too nice. The furniture was on the large side and Blurr was certain that he would get lost in that large berth. He looked out the narrow window, it overlooked a garden, still sizzling and hissing in the noxious downpour.

On the table next to the berth there was a cube of oddly tinted energon.

Blurr settled with a cube and sipped at it lightly, the taste was odd, slightly resin-like. Blurr smacked his lipplates and set it aside, he was more tired than hungry anyway.

Careful, not to disrupt the covers too much hee settled on the very edge of the berth and tried catching some recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	2. Nutritional Properties of Resiny Energon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy - I had like 4 hours of sleep. I submitted my proposal draft, today is my free day and I DO WHAT I WANT!

Blurr woke from the sensation of being tied and held down. He gasped, briefly at odds with how he felt about it, only to find the berth covers twisted around him like a snare. Apparently he had pulled them over himself in his recharge.  
 

Since when did he have berth covers?  
 

Blurr shot up into a sitting position and his processor helpfully supplied a short summary of what had led him to being where he was right now. Tension decreased by a fraction and Blurr fell back on to the berth with a moan. Tiredness still clung to his chassis yet he forced his stiff frame out of the berth. Waking with a start several times in the dead of night due to strange sounds which maybe, possibly, perhaps were incidative of experiments ongoing but most likely were just old building noises had not helped with recharge either.  
 

Lounging in berth was out of question when Blurr's fate was this uncertain; by the time Longarm knocked on his door Blurr was already a pacing mess of nerves.  
 

-”What has you so agitated?”  
 

-”My handlers, I finally reached them but they say they no longer have custody over me. Why would they be doing this, I was good, I was never late or slow, or impolite. I’m, I’m going to be smelted, am I not?!”

   
Blurr’s optics were pale as he wrapped his hands around himself and retreated to the corner of the room, suddenly wary of Longarm. He flinched when the other mech reached out to set a gentle hand on his shoulder strut.  
 

-”Change of handlers does not equal smelting, you know?”  
 

Blurr looked at him dumbstruck. -”What do you mean?”  
 

-”It is as you said. Your performance is beyond reproach and your frametype is not easy to come by. If they are not your handlers anymore, it only makes sense that the handler rights have been passed on to someone else.”

   
Blurr stuttered at how simple Longarm made it sound. Essentially it meant Blurr had been sold, he'd heard of mecha like him being sold but never considered that it would happen to him one day. This Had to be something else, Blurr begged Primus it was something else.

 

-”But I have not even delivered my last data packet.”

 

-”You will be able to do it tonight when master Shockwave returns; he had been anticipating it for a while now.”

 

Blurr stammered, going ramrod straight. Most data packets he delivered were not conveyed directly to the recipients but passed through receptor mechs - another frametype bred and maintained to filter out any malware which might have been attached to the message, oftentimes to their own detriment.

 

Moreover Shockwave was not known for entertaining his visitors, even less so - service bots. Blurr had anticipated to pass on the message to whoever took care of reception business in Shockwave’s abode, not to Shockwave personally.  
 

-”Can I just do it the way it is normally done?”

 

Longarm finally managed shooing the spooked mech out of the guest quarters and into the hallway.

 

-”Not this time, it is too important to be handled by middlemechs.”  
 

-”But, after the transfer’s done, where will I go? I have no information on my new handlers, could have they just, just disowned me?” Blurr mentally tallied up the mechs he knew and the mechs who could offer him shelter if that was the case.

 

There had been two other mechs in his litter - Cheetor was faster than Blurr but lacked endurance - more suited for delivering parcels to short destinations and from last Blurr heard, lived in Iacon. Drift had heaps of energy but could not keep his focus - he was eventually employed in racing in Rodion. Blurr was the best representative of his cohort - quick, lightweight and tenacious - perfect for long - distance travel over uneven and treacherous terrain… and hopelessly out of touch with his siblings.  
 

-”Are you needed anywhere else?” Pulled out of his thoughts Blurr realised that Longarm had been studying his features with soft concern.

 

-”No. But I, I don’t have anywhere to go either.”  
 

-”Then I’m sure you can stay here until that changes.”

 

Longarm resumed walking and gestured Blurr to follow. His offer was generous and Blurr thanked Longarm but that did not calm him even one bit. Blurr did not mind Longarm but he feared Shockwave in a way any other sane creature who knew about him would.  
 

The hallways were dark and when they passed the row of windows and Blurr chanced a look outside. The acid storm had let up in the morning just enough for him to be able to contact his former handlers but now it gained intensity once more. They did not meet anyone else on their way. Aside from a couple of maintenance drones the place was empty and Blurr got a distinct feeling that no other mechs apart from Longarm and Shockwave inhabited the manor.  
 

Longarm led Blurr to a rather spacious but similarly empty kitchen area where he retrieved some energon from the pantry, Blurr paced because that was all he could do.  
 

-"There you go. Would you want any additives to soothe your worries?"  
 

Blurr stammered at the blatant offer but politely refused and received the same resiny energon which he had gotten the night before. Blurr wondered if that was all they had but felt it would be impolite to ask for anything else.  
 

-"Forgive my asking but, are there any other inhabitants here apart from you and master Shockwave?"  
 

-"We seldom have guests and master Shockwave is often out so you could say that we currently are the sole inhabitants here."  
 

Poor mech, on his own with only drones for company. Blurr could relate, delivery service was a lonely business as well which was why when he did meet someone he nearly drowned them in the sea of things which went otherwise unsaid.   
 

-"Does it get lonely sometimes?"

   
-"Maintaining the house keeps me busy for most part and drones are not such a bad company either when you get to know them. Though, having someone new is always a pleasure." Longarm gave Blurr a meaningful glance and the speedster felt his faceplates heat up. 

   
Suddenly embarrassed, Blurr scrambled to break the uncomfortable silence which had settled between them.

   
-"Do you get to leave and interact with other mecha sometimes?"

 

-"Yes and no. I am not tied down but most matters are handled by delivery systems not dissimilar to the one you work for. It is more the remoteness of this area which prevents me from meeting other mecha often."

   
Blurr settled on looking into space over the rim of his barely-touched energon cube. If Longarm's testimony was anything to go by then working for Shockwave was not that bad after all. Maybe he could convince Shockwave to hire him too, provided he could prove his usefulness. With a new sense of purpose, Blurr set down his cube.

 

-”I, don’t mean to sound ungrateful but I hate being idle and seeing as I have nothing else to do at the moment would you mind greatly if perhaps I could tag along help you out?”

 

Before Longarm could protest Blurr added -”As a sign of appreciation for letting me stay here and fetching me from the acid storm, I promise I will not get in the way.”

 

And for all his jitteriness Blurr didn't. In fact it was almost ridiculous how acutely aware he was of Longarm’s personal space and dimensions - always close, never in the way.  
 

They assessed the energon stocks with Blurr sprinting down the long storage corridor and counting the cubes on his way. To his distress he noted that, yes, the resiny type of energon was the only thing in their stocks. The large engine room which supplied the manor with a surprisingly meager amount of energy was their next destination. Their teamwork did come to a spectacular halt when Blurr in his jitteriness accidentally dropped a glass beaker and almost had a breakdown over it.

 

-”Blurr, you needn’t prove your usefulness at every turn. Rest easy, you will not be mistreated here.”  
 

Blurr looked to the side, visibly embarrassed, he hadn't thought that his motives were so obvious. The fact that the time of meeting the owner of the manor was drawing closer only made him more desperate. In vain did he try to reassure himself that his meeting with Shockwave in the evening and the subsequent data transfer would be just that… that his sudden abandonment by his handlers was just a clerical mistake and yet he could not lie to himself. Uncertainty and dread settled in his spark.

 

Longarm softly cleared his throat to draw Blurr's attention.

   
-”I’m to leave to Master Shockwave’s quarters soon. I am afraid you can’t come with me there but feel free to explore other areas. I would have suggested that you visit the crystal gardens but because of the rain that option is void. However the mansion has a rather large library, if that would trigger your fancy.”

 

Experiencing a mild bout of panic about the prospect of being left on his own in a giant empty manor Blurr nodded halfheartedly.

 

They passed several identical corridors until they reached an area which bore some semblance to other manors Blurr had been to - namely it looked like it had not been copied and pasted several times in a row. Longarm pushed a large door to the side and gestured Blurr to enter first.  
 

Blurr gasped

   
The low light of the overcast afternoon filtered through the stained crystal panes. Rows and rows of data pads were illuminated by the eerily tinted light.

   
-" It's extraordinary."

 

Even in his nervous state Blurr could appreciate the sheer vastness of the area, the high ceiling, the winding expanse of pure data at his fingertips, humming with dormant charge that was palpable enough for his messenger systems to pick up upon. He was in love, more than that, he was charged up.

 

-"I'll leave you to explore." 

 

Longarm might as well have said it to an empty room, the natural pull Blurr's subroutines had for data emanated from the blue messenger bot and he deemed it best to let the little thing have some fun.

 

Blurr had been to a library of sorts before - for deliveries and such but not a place where he was allowed to browse at leisure. For that matter he could not recall having a moment to do anything at his leisure. This, this was like having an actual moment for himself. Blurr eyed the data pads hungrily - most looked well-worn with a myriad of hairline scratches on the opaque parts, as if a cybercat had had a go at them. 

   
Tentatively Blurr extended his hand towards the device which had caught his interest, yet hesitated to touch it as if he was an impostor in a place like this. Longarm had said he was free to explore the library, Blurr wanted to do it badly yet the steely boundaries of his standing ingrained in his subroutines held him back.

 

He decided to take it easy. First he slid a finger down the side of the pad he wanted, then, carefully, he attempted prying it out without disturbing the row or making any noise. Finally the pad came free and Blurr cradled it to his chest. With great care he set the pad on one of the tables and turned it on. It looked like a book of schematics of some older drone frametypes. Blurr canted his helm to the side to better understand what was portrayed in the pad but soon realised that the descriptions were not in a language he knew.

 

Blurr blinked and tried decyphering the glyphs to see if they bore resemblance to anything familiar. They surely were not Iaconian or Polyhexian but the downward sweeps of the ending glyphs and dot clusters above the main line of writing reminded him of how Tarnish looked like.  
 

So could it be that Shockwave knew Tarnish or was it that he owned the pad only for collector value? A smirk spread over Blurr's face - an idea. Since most of his sources about the mysterious owner of the manor were gossip perhaps reading habits might shine some light on what sort of mech this Shockwave actually was. Blurr would make sure to be prepared for his meeting with the mech tonight.

 

Methodically he combed through the library in search of the most scruffed and used-looking datapads. It was likely that the more used-looking pads were the ones Shockwave had more interest in.

   
With a sense of purpose Blurr laid an armful of datapads he had selected on one of the library's desks and categorised his bounty in order of scruffiness - from most worn to the newest-looking. Selecting the pad with most wear and tear Blurr lit it up and browsed the first couple of pages only to slam the off-button once he got to page 10. His faceplates were so hot they almost glowed.

 

Well, if anything the mech was well-versed in Praxan courtship rituals and techniques. Gingerly setting the tome aside, Blurr eyed another old-looking pad with rising apprehension. This one was on mechanical anatomy, written in what appeared to be a Kaonite-Iaconian pidgin which Blurr could partially decipher only thanks to the Iaconian part of the dialect.

 

It looked like Shockwave was into linguistic rarities.

 

Blurr opened another pad, which seemed to contain old maps of the area with long-gone settlements and territories of mecha tribes that no lonter existed. It was like reading fantastic history, Blurr soaked up the information as if it had been the sweetest energon, greedily committing every page to his memory banks and associating what he had seen on field with the information he gleaned from the records.

   
-”Do you like them?”

 

The voice made Blurr jump and he whipped about, noticing that the pile of the datapads he had stacked on the table probably looked like poor library behaviour to Longarm.  
 

-"I will put them back, I just got really fascinated by these old maps. They are like nothing I have seen before."  
 

Longarm stepped up to stand by his side and asked Blurr to elaborate.

   
-"You see, I need to know the terrain I am passing so I have memorised the courrier maps but I never knew the origins of some of the landmarks. We are just told they have been always there and that it is none of our business to know. But this here .." Blurr gestured at the particular point in map -" Used to be an old trade route, and this cairn on the hill used to be a fortification. I did not even know there were entire cities buried under fine rubble and metalloflora."

 

Blurr stopped abruptly, realising that he had been babbling.

   
-"You gleaned all this from only comparing maps and your own observations?"

 

Chewing on his bottom lip Blurr wondered about how he should answer that. -"I did, Sir. I mean, I can't be sure but it makes sense when I look at them."   
 

Longarm smiled.

 

-"You will be meeding master Shockwave in a cycle. I will be here to guide you to the meeting room ten clicks earlier."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blurr found the original tome of 'The art of Interface' written by Prowl's great uncle. Prowl himself denies ever being related to the mech whilst Smokescreen proudly flounts his heritage.


	3. Debilitating properties of Coding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the chapter is contains loss of control over one's body, if that squicks you out, consider yourself warned.

Blurr could no longer focus on anything but his meeting. When Longarm arrived to fetch him it felt sooner to Blurr than he would have liked. Once more they passed through the identical corridors that reminded Blurr more and more of a maze.

 

Longarm left him at the door to the room where their meeting was to take place and asked to enter it within 5 clicks, explaining that he had to leave to fetch Shockwave.

Left on his own devices, Blurr glanced around; he could escape - there was nothing holding him back but where would he go from there? He had little hope finding his way out of these corridors, not to mention anything that lay beyond the manor walls. Nervously he checked his internal chronometer - his 5 clicks were up, he closed his vents and opened the door.

 

The room had a soft golden glow to it. It was much larger than the chamber Blurr had slept in but was modest in size when compared to the library.

 

A large screen occupied the center of the room. Behind it, loomed a horned shadow. Blurr looked around for any signs of Longarm or anyone else but the room remained quiet and empty. Bored and nervous Blurr started pacing, how long would he wait? Did he want the wait to end? Part of him wished he could stay forever in that room without resolution. Then he suddenly started fretting that maybe he had entered the wrong door by accident.

 

He returned to the door and tried the handle...it did not budge. Excellent.

 

What if this Was the wrong room?  Blurr desperately tried finding something to open the door with. Cursory glance of the room showed an energon decanter a chair and the center-piece of the room. Maybe he could find something behind the screen?

 

He approached it for a better look. It was taller than Blurr and he had to cant his helm back to see the entire height of it...and what Was behind it - a statue?

 

It reminded him of an art installation he’d seen in Iacon once, or a shadow theatre setting. 

 

He canted his helm to the side trying to figure out what it was and why was it hidden and not on display. Cautious of security sensors, Blurr inched towards the edge of the screen, audio receptors trained on any noise which would indicate the arrival of the master of the estate. 

 

His fingers grazed the transparent edge of the canvas...

 

-”Are you sure you want to do that?”

 

Blurr gasped and and jumped back as if he’d been electrocuted. Had the statue spoken just now?! If Blurr looked closely between the two antlers of the shadowy figure he could now spot a circular patch of red light  shining faintly through the fabric.

 

Blurr spoke before he thought.

-”Who are you? “

 

Was he supposed to meet anyone else? 

 

-”Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. Welcome to my household.”

 

Blurr clamped his intake shut and made a stiff bow, his faceplate burned from embarrassment, way to make first impressions.

 

-”My apologies sir, I did not expect to meet you just yet.”

 

-”Tell me is such curiosity a trait all your kind has or is it just you?”

 

Blurr wished the floor swallowed him whole. Moreover from the tone he was not sure if it was a genuine question or a backhanded comment. Without anything else to go by he just stuck with the obvious.

 

-”I have been separated from my brethren for a long time, sir. I wouldn't be able to say.”

The shadowy appendages on his host’s head? moved but he remained otherwise static. 

 

Blurr’s connectors twitched - the urge to convey information when the target had been confirmed was hardwired in his coding.

 

-”Sir, my apologies but my protocols...I need to convey this last message to you.”

 

-”Have you considered what that implies?”

 

Blurr paused, he had, but his experience also showed that not everyone appreciated or even wanted his insight. He had been trying to stave off the gnawing realization of what might happen to him. The last data packet to transfer likely was the ownership right transfer to Shockwave and the physical package, the package was probably Blurr himself.

His spark fluttered, had he not considered this as a desirable outcome since his conversation with Longarm that morning? Why did this sudden certainty fill him with so much dread now? 

 

Did it matter what he wanted? In a few moments that would not be the case anymore. He could have run before, but he had closed off that path for himself.

 

He vented lightly, feeling as if his rapidly spinning spark would fly off it's axis and propel itself straight through his chest plate. 

 

-”I do not have a choice in the matter, sir.” 

 

Blurr swallowed thickly and waited for reaction.

 

-”What are your fuel levels?”

 

Fueling had not been one his primary concerns. 

 

-”Twenty six per cent, sir.”

 

-”You need to be at least 60 for this. Help yourself.”

 

The shadow extended what passed for an arm, Blurr assumed, and pointed to the side table where the decanter with energon stood.

 

Carefully, not daring to turn his back to the tall shadow, Blurr served himself. The same resiny stuff that left a gummy feeling in his intake. Being anxious did not help with getting the substance down his intakes. His directives which drove him to convey the message above all else now that the recipient was so close did not help either but an order was an order. Blurr struggled, wincing after each gulp until his tanks informed him he could take no more.

 

-”I’m at 56 percent but my tank is full, sir. Please.”

 

Blurr’s plea was followed by a pause which could not end soon enough.

 

-”Come.”

 

Stiffly Blurr approached the screen again - as close as he dared without touching the surface. His cables twitched in anticipation as he unspooled them. Charge running up and down the primed circuits.

 

-”I have never done this before.”

 

Fine tremors ran through Blurr’s servos, he was not even sure what he was expected to do now that the recipient was behind a barrier - should he step around? Should he wait for Shockwave to move?

 

-”You needn’t fear me as long as you do what I tell you.”

 

The shadow shifted.

 

-”Offline your optics.”

 

Blurr obeyed and stood still. He even did not vent, fearing that he might do something wrong. His cables were taken gently from his hands. A light tap against his medical port and he retracted the cover.

 

-”Now, this will likely feel unusual for you but it is best for you not to fight it.”

 

Blurr confirmed that he understood and tried relaxing as much as possible. Inevitably he tensed and shivered when his connectors clicked into the port of the other and when alien - feeling connection was established with his own medical socket.

 

Like a professional he waited stiffly for the permission to initiate the upload sequence, acutely aware of the haunting feeling of  _ something  _ slithering in the background of his subroutines with a disturbing liquidity of quicksilver.

 

He didn’t get a permission, not as such. Something from within prompted him to release the data packet he’d carried and two things happened. 

 

The packet became active and split in two before it was fully uploaded. One part was indeed transferred to Shockwave but in an unlikely motion the other part stayed with Blurr, latching sharply on his base coding.

 

He gasped, feeling how ruthlessly the code modified the area responsible for allegiances.

In a daze Blurr noticed the fading of the concern for his previous job. The feelings associated with the memory cooled, retaining only enough presence to indicate that he had not hated it. But the passion for it was gone, replaced by a hollow feeling. Curiously Blurr wondered about this sudden shift, attempted to figure out why.

 

The liquid presence in the back of his processor gave him a mild reprimand for this.

 

_ Let it go _ , it said.

 

Blurr did, suddenly noticing just how important it was to obey this new voice and how much he had enjoyed the command. Data strings unraveled and reestablished in a different configuration, suddenly he could feel again but it was all different.

 

The core elements were the same - the same willingness to please, the same devotion to goals, the same need for being loyal….but this time towards some One rather than some Thing.

 

-”Open your optics, Blurr.”

 

HE knew his name, Shockwave knew his name and that was one of the most glorious feelings Blurr now knew. He reset his optics a couple of times and looked before him. The space behind the screen was empty.

 

-”Turn around.”

 

Blurr did.

 

-”What do you see, Blurr?”

 

The racer looked up, his optics traveling over the large claws up to the narrow waist, wide chestplate, the empty faceplate with one red optic in it and the bizarre prongs. 

 

To him it all looked perfect, desirable - he was willing to obey, to please.

 

-”I see my owner, sir.”

 

A heavy claw descended to lightly graze his cheek. Blurr shivered and leant into the touch. He did not remember ever being touched like this, he wanted to earn more.

 

-”Why are you here?”

 

-”To please you, sir.”

 

-”Is that all?”

 

-”That is my primary objective which I am to achieve through any means necessary.”

 

Blurr chanced a step closer to his owner, a step more and he could not help himself. He was shocked and embarrassed by how much he wanted to lean into the tall mech. But at the same time his latent coding told him he should keep his distance and be courteous. The resulting conundrum left him a tense statue locked in mid-stride.

 

Shockwave retracted his claw much to Blurr’s disappointment and vented with a noise of distaste. Blurr looked at his feet thinking it had somehow been his fault. The claw tip slid under Blurr’s chin and directed his gaze upwards.

 

-”I don’t understand, sir. What did I do.”

 

-”Does your coding urge you to approach me?”

 

-”Yes. Sir, my apologies but I do not know what to do with myself.” 

 

-”Come.”

 

Those sharp claws beckoned in such a bizarrely fluid motion that Blurr was transfixed. 

 

-”I feel I must emphasize that this is not how I normally act, sir. I deeply apologise for being so forward.” The little mech muttered while leaning into the offered hand. Shivering slightly as the sharp claw-tips grazed his back. Why did this suddenly feel so good and why would such a brazen act fill him with so much satisfaction?

 

-”Are you enjoying this?”

 

-”I'm not sure, I have not displayed such, ah, frivolous behaviour before. This is very strange.”

 

Another outraged gasp - Blurr’s panel slid open after a lengthy caress down his backstrut.

 

-”Sir, please forgive me but I do not know what is happening at the moment! I do not want this but I can’t stop it from happening.”

 

Blurr was panicking and getting more distressed with each lewd gesture his body did. He panted, arching his back strut, making his valve more accessible and simultaneously was hiding his helm in his hands, horrified by it and deeply ashamed. 

 

-”You are not to blame, Blurr, but I can’t have you like this either.”

 

Blurr moaned a little when he felt the blunt edge of a claw wipe off the lubricant which had collected at the rim of his valve and was threatening to drip down Blurr’s thighs. 

 

-”Can you close your panel?”

 

Blurr whimpered and strained as if the action required unspeakable effort on his part but eventually, after a pained hiccup he managed. The action also seemed to sap any remaining energy from him and he collapsed by Shockwave’s feet, panting.

 

With a vent Shockwave picked up the little racer, feeling how hot his frame was.

 

-”What have they done to you…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, woo etc...Too tired for proper expression  
> Hope you had fun.


	4. Antagonizing Properties of Misperception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blurr is not in a happy place

Waking up in chamber he'd been given felt strange until the clarity of the situation settled on him like a heavy weight - he had massively disgraced himself. What had come over him? Was this how ownership transfer worked or was this an off-event? What if Blurr was somehow defective and Shockwave handed him down to some other owner? What if he was sent directly to smelter?

 

Blurr hid his face in the covers and released a little whimper. What Shockwave had said echoed deep in Blurr's processor.

 

"I can't have you like this."

 

He was so agitated by his thoughts alone that he nearly jumped when Longarm entered his chamber carrying a tray. The mech approached carefully and set the tray on the table. Blurr only pulled himself into a tighter ball - frustration and embarrassment almost palpable. 

 

-”How are you feeling?” Longarm inquired in his usual gentle tone.

 

Blurr felt terrible and told as much. It was not just embarrassment about how he had acted before his master though. It was something that had somehow become a part of Blurr and now lurked deep inside his processor, waiting for opportunity to manifest.

 

-”Are you physically hurt or is it due to what transpired between you and Master Shockwave yesterday?”

 

-”I’m a disgrace to my kind.” Blurr stated grimly. -"I m supposed to be a professional and yet I am incapable of so much as greeting the new owner properly."

 

A soft vent.

 

-”You are being unfair with yourself.”

 

The messenger bot peeked from behind his wall of covers.

 

-”I don’t follow.”

 

-”Master Shockwave is currently clarifying this with your former handlers. For some reason they thought it appropriate to fit you with certain programming features as the ownership rights were transferred.”

 

Blurr looked even more uneasy than he had before but now for a completely different reason.

 

-”Y-you mean that I’m not who I was anymore?”

 

-”If that is any consolation - the fact that you remember what happened is for the better.”

 

Blurr hugged himself, feeling terribly lonely in his predicament. Before he managed asking the obvious question Longarm added -”It might be reversible if you still sense that what you are doing is not a part of you.”

 

-”Is there a way of knowing for sure?”

 

-”I…” Longarm paused. -” Master Shockwave is looking into it as we speak.”

 

-”I'm grateful for this.” It looked like Shockwave indeed was a better master than Blurr gave him credit.

 

Seeing that the messenger bot had calmed down a bit, Longarm put a small stack of data pads on the night stand.

 

-”It is best for you not to wander the grounds in the state you are. But I figured you might be bored. You liked these yesterday, correct?”

 

Blurr recognized the data pads as the ones  which held old maps and roads.

 

-”That is very kind. Thank you Longarm.”

 

Blurr was unused to staying so still or, for that matter - in the same location but he made do. He read the datapads with enough zeal to counterbalance his growing unease. Cycles later he was still alone but at least he was not scared into stupor. He felt truly grateful that someone cared enough to look into the transgression done to him. Instead of fearing Shockwave now he looked forward to hearing more news about his progress.

 

Later that day Longarm visited him once more but this time - carrying a single cube of energon. In his agitation, Blurr had forgotten about his frames’ needs and was indeed grateful that Longarm lingered by to make sure he drank it all.

 

Blurr’s optics lit up in surprise when he tasted the liquid.

 

-”Oh, this is different from the usual.” He commented, taking a closer look at the cube. The color was slightly off and the texture was far less resiny.

 

-”Master Shockwave was worried you might be running low on some minerals.”

 

-”He needn’t have bothered, but I am grateful regardless.” Now finished with the cube Blurr ventured to set it down, frowning and resetting his optics as suddenly the edges of table and the surrounding room were becoming more fuzzy.

 

Blurr swayed, grasping the edge of the berth.

 

-”Blurr, are you fine?” Longarm was immediately at his side and guiding Blurr to sit down.

 

-”Not sure.”

 

-”Are you hurting?”

 

-”No, just dizzy.” Blurr shook his helm and then froze, unfocused optics flashing with agitation. -”Is it another part of the coding?”

 

Longarm was silent for a moment and then, tentatively, he spoke once more. -”Sometimes, when your frame is exhausted for certain types of minerals, when it finally gets them, it may want to shut down for full repair.”

 

Blurr shuttered his optics once more, pinching his olfactory ridge in attempts to clear the fog creeping in from the corners of his vision.

 

-”Don’t fight it, it’s good for you.”

 

With an slurred word Blurr’s frame finally succumbed to whatever was weighing it down and splayed haphazardly on the berth.

 

With a small vent Longarm collected the light frame, taking care to properly allocate Blurr’s long limbs. He had to work quickly now.

 

¬¬¬

 

Blurr onlined slowly, optical feed still fuzzy. When he slurred something uncharacteristically slow for himself a large shadow fell over him, singular red light shone from somewhere above and blinded him in it’s brightness.

 

Something covered his optics and he was too disoriented and weak to try and resist. The haze settled in once more and he fell into oblivion.

  


¬¬¬

 

When Blurr woke next time it was to a distinct sensation. It felt as if his processor was being stabbed by cold pins and needles. He opened his optics and was grateful for the clear optical feedback and probably at the same moment he regretted being able to see.

He could barely move his helm so he resolved scanning the room with his optics alone - best he could. From the looks of it he was in a dungeon, a set of machines beeped in time with his spark and that unnerved Blurr. In one of the darker vials he caught a glimpse of blue - a distorted reflection of himself and even in the odd image he could spot that something was wrong. Half of his helm was missing, his processor was open to the cool air which probably explained why he felt so cold.

 

His spark constricted in his chassis, the rumors he’d heard about Shockwave coming back full force. The others were right! He was nothing more than a mere experiment!

 

Blurr tried moving but couldn’t, his limbs stiff and uncooperative. He vented harder, noting in annoyance that the spark monitor started beeping more frequently with his increased struggles.

 

A helpless whimper of anger and frustration rose in his chest, coolant running down his cheeks - he should have run when he could. Now he was at a mercy of a monster.

 

Soft pedefalls approached him, drawn in by little noises Blurr was capable of making with his frozen voice box.

 

Blurr’s optics widened in horror as the enormous singular red optic hovered just above him. Gone was the feeling of giddy adoration Blurr remembered experiencing when he first set his optics on that helm. Now it was only terror and betrayal.

 

One large claw extended in his direction and Blurr tried recoiling best he could. With no options of retreat available, he clamped his denta and hissed static instead.

 

-”It pleases me to see you so vigorous but I would advise not to strain yourself.”

 

Blurr was beyond comprehension, caged and cornered, he acted feral, hyperventilation making froth collect at the corners of his intake. He tried thrashing his helm more but was promptly stopped by two claws framing his jaw and lower face.

 

-”Why are you so upset, little thing?”

 

The look of Loathing Blurr shot him was not enough to convey just how very upset he was.

 

-”I take it your processor is a bit clearer now, is it not?”

 

Blurr’s frame went limp, he stared at Shockwave for a moment but his gaze was directed inwards. He probed the area in his processor which felt unstable for him after hardlining with Shockwave for the first time - it was oddly numb now. It was there, still, but unresponsive, almost like it was dead.

 

Blurr tried speaking but all that came out was static.

 

-”Ah, your speech center, my apologies, dear, but I am not yet done with you. You came out of stasis sooner than I anticipated.”

 

Before Blurr could indicate that he did not want any more stasis, the fuzziness started returning. He tried resisting it but his efforts grew weaker and weaker until his frame settled completely.

 

Shockwave ran the edge of his claw gently along the side of Blurr’s jaw, amazed how such a little thing could experience so much terror and suffering. After a moment of tenderness, Shockwave pinpointed the segment of processor he wanted to work on and plugged in.

 

¬¬¬¬¬¬

 

When Blurr came to next it was gradual, he did not register coldness but his frame felt slightly alien to him. Like he was a mere passenger in his own frame. Tentatively he lifted his arm to look at it and was amazed how it worked so fluidly by just commands from his processor. Even though he was aware that it was him moving the fingers and the hand, it felt like there was an extra step between when the signal left his processor and when his limb responded to it.

 

-”Blurr?”

 

Blurr blinked as his visual feed exploded in colors at the voice. He turned around to look at Longarm and he spoke once more. He spoke red. Blurr blinked and rubbed his helm. He was certain he heard him but it was difficult to focus on dual input.

 

-”How are you feeling?”

 

Blurr saw more red and rubbed his optics.

 

-”I see noise.” Blur groaned, his own words tumbled out blue. -”It’s annoying. Argh!”

 

-”Are your optics inta…”

 

-”Don’t speak!” Blurr was squeezing the heels of his palms into his optic sockets, but the colorful noise refused to cut out with the optic feed. He rocked in his berth, reluctant to speak for fear of seeing more color.

 

He tensed when a palm was set on his shoulder and something was put on his lap.

 

Gingerly Blurr looked at the object and recognized it to be a data pad.

 

::After the procedure you went through, it is natural to have double input on noise. It will fade eventually as your systems adapt. I apologise for startling you like this.::

 

-”What procedure?” Blurr winced and immediately regretted asking.

 

Longarm took the data pad to type some more.

 

::The removal of programming that altered your behaviour. Do you remember it?::

 

Instead of replying, Blurr nodded, still nursing his helm in his hands. He remembered the distorted reflection of himself with half of his helm gone. Gingerly he felt it for any missing parts or any irregularities.

 

::The coding was insidious, master Shockwave needed to access deeper parts of your processor to neutralize it.::

 

Blurr vented and braced himself for what he was about to say.

 

-”He… could have..” He panted, waiting for the colors to dissipate. -”Warned...me.”

 

::That was an oversight on his part but time was of essence. The longer you remained with the coding the less chances there would be for its successful removal.::

 

Another nod from Blurr, but this time, he reclined back against the berth, already exhausted from the conversation.

 

::Rest, master Shockwave will visit you later, you can ask him in person.::

 

Blurr’s optics opened, then dimmed and closed.


End file.
